An Illusion of Truth
by SarcasticGhoul
Summary: AU. Rachel Berry is the top spy of a private corporation. Ever the perfectionist, when a freak accident kills her teammate she goes into retirement, unable to cope with the guilt. The Company wants their best spy back, and Rachel wants to go back. But will she be able work past her doubts and worries and return to being the great spy she once was, or will she have a relapse?


**Story: **An Illusion of Truth

**Author:** Cat

**Rating:** 'Rated M for Mature' - Language, Violence, Sexual Content (But if you're looking for a good time in that department, you best be seeking elsewhere.)

**Summary:** Alternate universe. Rachel Berry is the top spy of a private corporation. Ever the perfectionist, when a freak accident kills her teammate she goes into retirement, unable to cope with the guilt. The Company wants their best spy back, and Rachel wants to go back. But will she be able work past her doubts and worries and return to being the great spy she once was, or will she have a relapse?

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**Chapter 1**

Take a Breath

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She stretched her hands out in front of her, gripping the fingers of one hand in her other, tilting her head back slightly as her shoulders strained. It hadn't gone according to plan, not really. What needed to be done had been done, but that wasn't the point. It was supposed to have been routine, something she could have done with her eyes shut because it should have gone exactly as any one of the mediocre textbooks laid it out to be, and she had memorized those textbooks. But something had gone wrong, something they couldn't have planned for. Something the textbooks hadn't known about, something the computers couldn't have predicted, and something she couldn't have prepared for, because it had just been some fluke. She blamed herself for it anyway. She _should_ have been prepared for it, and she hadn't been. Now, she had the scrapes and bruises decorating her arms and torso as evidence to her failure. She ignored the pain that flared up as she stretched her limbs, rolled her joints. It had been her mistake, she was paying for it now, and she'd be damned if she'd complain even slightly about it.

She tried to shove away the memories, but even the bass booming in her ears from the headphone buds couldn't drown out the images and sounds that played back, almost mocking her. She tried to focus more fully on her current task. Yoga was supposed to be calming, after all, right? Help you relax and work away your problems and blah…blah… blah- She really hated yoga. No. That was a lie. She didn't hate yoga. She loved yoga. She just really wasn't in the best of moods. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, trying not to disrupt the orderly ponytail she had pulled her unruly locks back into, but at the same time not really caring. She clenched her eyes shut, and there were those images, waiting for her. They had never left. They would never leave. They'd always be there, she just had to get used to them, come to terms with them.

_Why_ had she been so far away? Why had _they_ been across the room, out of position? Why hadn't they just followed the plan? She could have sworn they had gone over it enough times for both of them to know it like the back of their hands but… Apparently she had been wrong. Because of that one mistake, that one tiny misstep, the shit had hit the proverbial fan and everything had gone to hell. Their eyes had met just before the fire had taken over, just before she had been forced to flee or face a fiery grave, just like her teammate. She could still hear their shouts, screaming for her to run, to get out of there. They had been so torn. They had wanted her to go, to live, but at the same time _they_ had wanted to live. They hadn't been ready to die, but they had accepted it. If one of them was going to live, it was going to be her, not them. It was either one of them or neither of them. It wasn't _fair_ though! _They_ had made that choice for her! It wasn't their choice to make!

She clenched her teeth slightly as she pressed her palms into her forehead. The music had faded. Now all she could hear were those screams. Her name. All she could feel was her regret and guilt.

The black earbud was torn from her ear, and she spun around quickly, a switchblade appearing in her hand.

"_Rachel_, what are you doing?" The girl relaxed almost immediately when she saw who it was, and she straightened out of the defensive position she had taken. She didn't like being taken off guard. That was why she had come here, after all. This was the one place she could, usually, be left alone. Now, she would have to find a new safe haven. Not that she was ever really alone, but that wasn't the point. This place had offered her the sanctuary she needed; it had offered the illusion that she was alone. Now, that had been shattered.

"Mike, what are _you_ doing here?" She shot back, snatching the earbud from the intruder's light grip after stashing the knife away again. She removed the other bud from her ear and paused the music playing from them, quickly going about the process of coiling the wire around the mp3 player. The young man shrugged softly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, watching her through dark eyes as she fussed with the headphone wire. He realized she was waiting for an answer when she stopped moving to watch him, and he looked up to meet her gaze, arching a brow at her.

"You're really tense."

"You _don't _say." The sarcasm was practically oozing from the words, and he couldn't hold back the slight smirk that broke across his features as she turned around and huffed away a few steps.

"Why are you here, Mike?" The shorter girl turned back around, crossing her arms impatiently, watching him expectantly. He shrugged again, "Everyone was kind of worried about you. They wanted me to check on you because-" "Because they need me to do something, right?" "Because they know I'm the only one you actually talk to when it doesn't have anything to do with the Company." She frowned at his correction, and turned around again, walking over towards the large, opaque window closest to them. Mike followed after her and stood next to her, staring at the window as if he could actually see beyond the glass.

"And they know I'm the only one you wouldn't beat to a pulp just for showing up." He grinned at her, and she glared at him return, but it didn't hold much weight behind it, and he knew it.

"The night is still young." Rachel replied with a sigh.

"Actually, it's not. It's seven in the morning. The night is sufficiently old and dead." She glared at him again and he grinned at her. They both turned their attention back to the window and were silent for a few long moments. Finally, Rachel sighed again and turned to look at him, "Mike, why did they _really_ send you here?" He didn't answer immediately, but his smile faded, telling her that there was an ulterior motive for his presence. He slipped one hand from his pocket and handed her a small, black, USB drive, "It's a mission."

She took the small device and studied it for a few moments folding her hand over it, hugging her arms to herself, "Today?" He nodded.

"They think it will help get your mind off- What happened." He explained. She nodded her head slowly a few times and then turned back to the window, leaning her forehead against the cool glass.

"I don't think that's such a great idea." She muttered. Mike shook his head, "Rachel, you need to get back out there. I've been briefed on this mission, and I know for a fact that you would have been the first one to volunteer for it at any other time. You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened-" She snapped, turning to face him again suddenly, "It was _my_ fault, Mike. I told them we were ready when _clearly_, we weren't. It's _entirely_ my fault." She turned away from him. She didn't want him to see the tears that were threatening to break through.

"Rachel…" Mike put a hand on her shoulder tentatively. She didn't turn to face him, so he continued, "Rachel, it's been five _years_." She frowned thoughtfully as she stared down at the ground. It may have been five years, but it felt like it had all happened yesterday. The bruises had all faded. The cuts had all healed. The pain she had been feeling, the tightness in her muscles, it had all been mental.

"Mike, I'm not ready." She muttered softly, the shame she felt at this revelation clearly evident in her voice. Mike turned her around softly to face him. "We'll help you get prepared. _I'll_ help you get ready, alright? You've been gone long enough; it's time to get back out there." He put his other hand on her other shoulder and watched her intently. "Rachel, you're _good_ at this. You've been training for this your whole life. What happened is over, alright? It's something you can't change now, and there's nothing you can do about it. You can just make sure it never happens again, and make sure it doesn't influence what you do _now_." She couldn't meet his gaze. She didn't want to. She _had_ been training all her life, but obviously it hadn't been enough.

Mike could tell she was still torn, and he sighed softly, taking a step back and sliding his hands from her shoulders and back into his pockets, "Think about it, alright? This isn't an order. It's a request. You know how to contact us when you've made your decision." He watched her for a few minutes longer, until she looked up to finally meet his gaze, at which point he smiled softly and nodded his head in farewell.

Rachel looked back down at the USB drive in her hand as Mike turned and left the abandoned loft. What if she made another mistake, just like the last? She couldn't survive something like that. What if she wasn't ready? He said he would help but… What if she failed? Then she would be failing him in addition to everyone else. He had been her best friend; he wouldn't care, would he? It didn't feel right. But at the same time, she was dying to get back to it. It _would_ take her mind off of everything. It was that thing she had been missing the past few years. It would give her a sense of direction, a sense of purpose, again. She missed that. But what if she screwed up?

What if she didn't? What if she _was_ ready? You never knew if you didn't try, right?

She folded her fingers around the USB drive again and looked up to the door Mike had disappeared through, across the room. Maybe it was time to get back to basics, time to start over and work her way back up. But she wouldn't be starting from scratch this time. For the first time in a long time Rachel felt a small smile tug at her lips.


End file.
